Giving Feedback That Works

So here's the conundrum: Each of us requires critical feedback to get better at anything, but most criticism feels like condemnation, judgment, disapproval and disparagement. In short, it's painful and destabilizing. So what is a leader or a manager to do? Most end up going to one extreme or another. Either they opt for too much honesty, or too much compassion. They avoid tough feedback out of the desire to avoid conflict and the resulting discomfort. Or they justify blunt directness as being real, even though it can be hurtful, even cruel and, ultimately, counterproductive. The nut of the problem is surprisingly simple. We human beings are vastly more vulnerable than we want to believe. When our value feels at risk, which is usually the case when we're told we've fallen short in some way, our first response is physiological. We move to fight — striking out to defend our value — or to flight — withdrawing or shutting down. What we don't do when we're feeling threatened is embrace new information, no matter how accurate or potentially valuable it may be. But what if a manager could be real and direct, without putting the other person's value at risk? It's possible, but it takes a great deal of care and precision. Care comes first. It's not just about valuing the other person, but making sure you communicate that feeling up front. Your goal is for the other person to truly take in what you're saying, and that's only possible when that person feels safe. That's where precision matters. You want to be as clear as possible about describing the problem or the behavior, while avoiding a blanket indictment. It's the same way a neurosurgeon must be meticulous in operating on a specific region of the brain to avoid causing broader damage. None of this is possible if you yourself are in fight or flight — feeling your own set of negative emotions — when you offer criticism. You're far more likely to be effective when you deliver feedback with authentic humility. The psychologist Robert Kegan calls this "deconstructive criticism." It begins with the recognition that whatever you've concluded about another person's behavior may or may not be wholly right, or right at all. Deconstructive criticism requires holding two opposites: your own negative and often strongly held assessment of another person's actions, and the possibility that the other person may have an entirely different view of the same reality. One way to acknowledge this possibility is to start your dialogue with the incontrovertible facts — what is observably true. As in: "You were late getting me that report, and that's the third time it's happened during the past month." Then, you move more tentatively to a conclusion like this: "The story I'm telling myself about why you've been late is. …" The point is to acknowledge that you can't know for certain how to interpret or evaluate the lateness. Rather than simply delivering an indictment, you're leaving open the possibility that there are mitigating circumstances. You've opened the possibility for a dialogue — a deconstruction of what happened — rather than pushing the other person into a defensive posture. Another way to think about feedback is to imagine how you would give it at your best. That forces you out of reactive mode, and ensures you are instead more reflective, deliberate and nuanced in the feedback you provide. If you find you can't conceive of how you would do that at your best, you're probably still feeling triggered, and you're better off waiting until you've calmed down. The real challenge in feedback is not delivering information but rather influencing behavior. The most powerful way to do that is not by shaming and finger-pointing, nor by sidestepping and soft-pedaling, but rather by respectfully sharing what you've observed, deconstructing it together and collaboratively creating a shared vision of a better way forward.